


Conquer Over Me

by NuwandaSnicket



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Male Slash, NO CHARLIE/DEAN RELATIONSHIP, Slash, Smut, Yaoi, lesbian helping a man explore his homosexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1842346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuwandaSnicket/pseuds/NuwandaSnicket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a drunken night at the bar, Dean confesses to Charlie that he's curious about homosexual sex.  So like any good friend, she shows him what it's like to be on the receiving end of things.  Only then he realizes it might not be all curiosity.  And why does he keep thinking in particular on one pair of blue eyes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is NO RELATIONSHIP between Charlie and Dean. It's just a plot device. I'm assuming many/most of you have had a drunken hook-up with a friend. Either than or it's just a theatre department thing. >.>

Dean woke up at what felt like the crack of dawn, blinking his eyes blearily at the sun that streamed through the windows. He felt as if someone was pounding a hammer against his head. The room he saw through his blurry eyes wasn’t the one he and Sam had taken. He frowned at that. Then he saw the feminine arm draped over his chest. Oh. Right. He had been at the bar last night. The memories were vague but he had gone home with someone. Carefully so as not to wake the other sleeper, he turned over. A redhead. Like Anna. Only Anna was dead now. His eyesight adjusted as he woke and he frowned as things came into focus and he registered the face of his bed partner.

“……CHARLIE?!”

 

**~LAST NIGHT~**

 

“Are you SURE we can’t convince you to come?” Charlie wheedled. The redhead had been in a neighboring town for a convention and had called the boys up. She had just spent the last hour trying to convince Sam to join her and Dean for drinks, to no avail.

“Seriously, Charlie, I just want to finish this up and make an early night of it.”

Charlie gave Dean an imploring look as though begging him to intervene, but he just rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. “Sometimes I don’t even know how he’s my brother.” In response, Sam threw an empty beer can at him. “Hey! Bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam had been holding his place in his book with one finger; now he opened it again, smiling at the two of them. “Go on. Have fun.”

Dean shook his head again. “Your loss, Sammy.” He grabbed Charlie’s elbow, tugging. “C’mon. There’s a good bar down the road.”

**~*~**

Dean didn’t come to the bar often. When he and Sam were at the Batcave, as he liked to call it, he mainly drank the beer and whiskey they kept there. But now and then, it was nice to get out to a real joint. He realized just then how infrequently he HAD been hitting the bars, which in turn meant how few women he’d been hooking up with. Weirder than that was the fact that he hadn’t even noticed, and in turn that he didn’t even really care. When had he stopped trying to pick up women every night? 

He shook his head, telling himself they’d had far too much to worry about for him to even THINK about hook-ups. Important things. That’s all. He’d find someone soon. Someone with soft brown hair and a pair of pretty blue eyes….

For some reason an image of those eyes came so vividly to mind that Dean was struck almost breathless with it. “Fuck.” He knew those eyes. Why did he know those eyes?

“Dean?”

Startled, Dean turned to Charlie. “Oh, hey. Sorry. Just thinking.” He looked to the bar where Charlie had gotten shots lined up for them. Six each. He raised a brow. “You think you can handle that?”

“Do _you?_ ” There was a challenge in her voice, and he laughed.

“Sounds like you wanna make this a contest.”

She smiled, sharp and wicked. “I’m down if you are.”

Dean reached out, picking up his first shot and raising it. “A contest, then. First one to pass out has to pay the tab.”

“But how will they pay if they’re passed out?” Charlie quipped, and from the tone in her voice it was clear that she knew she was being a smartass. Dean gave her a Look.

“I will reach into your pocket, take out your wallet, and get the cash.”

She arched a brow at him. “So sure you’re going to win, Winchester?”

He shrugged a confident shoulder. “Pretty sure, yeah.”

Charlie raised a shotglass. “Well then, put your money where your mouth is.” Smiling, Dean clinked his glass against hers, and they both threw back the liquor like it was nothing stronger than water.

**~*~**

Many rounds later, both were still going strong. So far they were matching each other beer for beer and shot for shot. Now Dean could hold his liquor damn well, but after a couple hours of this, even he was beginning to get tipsy. This is when things began to interesting.

Men were starting to hit on Charlie. She was one of few women in the bar and she WAS hot. Even Dean had to admit it, and he had never had anything other than friendly feelings for her, unusual for someone with a libido like his. It seemed like men thought that, now that she was drunk, she was more likely to be receptive to their advances. They were wrong.

After Charlie had turned away three men, she seemed to decide it was Dean’s turn to handle the problem. Another man came up to her and she immediately draped herself over Dean, arms around his neck, body plastered against his.

“I don’t think my boyfriend much appreciates you flirting with me."

Dean looked at, face silently inquiring ‘boyfriend?’ She just smiled adoringly back at him, batting her eyelashes. He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or kill her. Damn, she smelled nice, though.

The man didn’t look at all impressed. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Leave me alone or he’ll kick your ass.”

……yeah. Kill her was definitely it.

The man snorted. “ _This_ puny guy?”

Now, that was it. “Yeah,” Dean answered. “This puny guy.” He shrugged Charlie’s arms off of him. “Care to have a go?”

The man looked amused. Dean could work with that. As annoying as it could be to have someone underestimate you, it could work to your advantage, too. As the man swung at him, Dean ducked, the punch going over his head. He sidestepped it and hit the guy in the ribs. The man spun to face him and Dean gave him a right-hook to the jaw. He stumbled back into the bar, sliding to the floor; an effort was made to stand but his feet slipped out from under him and he sunk back to the floor, back against the bar. Clearly he wouldn’t be giving them any further trouble tonight, and by the look of it, no one else would be, either.

Charlie wrapped her arms around his neck again, cooing “my big strong man.”

Dean glared. “I hate you.”

“Oh, you do not. Defending my honor.”

Dean felt Charlie’s warm, soft body pressed against him and wondered something. “Charlie, have you ever been with a man?”

“Been with?” Charlie cocked her head. “Like…..BEEN with been with, is that what you mean?”

“I don’t know. Whatever you want it to mean,” Dean answered.

Charlie leaned back, elbows resting against the bar. “Dated a couple before I decided it wasn’t for me.”

Dean nodded. “Figured.”

“Why’re you asking?” There was that curious head-tilt again. For a moment it reminded Dean of Cas, and he smiled. 

“Don’t know. Just asking.”

Charlie grinned. “Don’t lie. You’ve got the hots for me, don’t you, Winchester.”

Dean’s reaction was immediate, making a face. “UGH, no. That’s just weird. Ew. No.”

Charlie laughed. “Oh, gee, thanks.”

“Oh come on. Like you think of me as anything more than a friend.”

Charlie considered it. “True.” She gave him a once-over. “Still, wouldn’t mind tapping that, if I were straight.”

Dean shrugged. “Duh. I’m gorgeous.” He grinned as Charlie laughed. “And likewise.”

She arched a brow at him. “You’d screw me if you were straight?”

He realized what he had said and flushed crimson. “NO! I’m straight! I mean….if YOU were straight! I just……fuck.” She was laughing. He glowered. “Shut the hell up.”

“No.” Charlie took a long sip of beer. Dean watched her, thinking.

“So….” He wasn’t sure that this was an okay question to ask, but it was Charlie, and Charlie was usually okay answering anything. Besides, by this point he was drunk enough that it seemed okay to say or do just about anything. “Lesbian sex.”

Charlie arched a brow again. “I’m familiar.”

“Like……how similar is the real thing to what they show in porn?”

Charlie looked both intrigued and amused by the question. “Huh. Good question.” She considered it for a moment. “Well obviously the porn is really overacted.”

“Obviously.”

“Lot of really fake moans. And the positioning is really overdone.”

“Really?” Dean was disappointed.

“Yeah.” Charlie looked at the crestfallen look on Dean’s face and couldn’t help a little laugh, shaking her head. “Dean, when it comes down to it, there aren’t as many differences between gay sex and straight sex as one might think.”

“……seriously?”

“Lesbians use their hands and mouths on each other the same way a man would use his hands and mouth on a woman.” She paused. “……though probably with more skill, since they themselves are women and therefor know what women like. Obviously not all cases.”

“Like me,” Dean said. “Cuz I’m awesome.”

She laughed. “Well obviously the great Dean Winchester is the exception.”

“Obviously.” He took a moment to mull it over. “So…..it’s mainly the whole…dick….thing?”

“That’s the main difference, yes.”

“Huh.” He considered it. “And you use a strap-on.” This wasn’t so much a question as a statement. He may be curious but he still had a pretty good idea how everything worked.

“Yup. Strap-on, dildo, vibrator…..I’ve actually got a strap-on in my bag back at the hotel.”

“Really?” Dean was intrigued.

“Yeah. You wanna see it later?”

“HELL yeah!” Yeah, he’d probably had too much alcohol tonight. Though if the flush in Charlie’s cheeks was anything to go by, so had she. Still, he wasn’t so drunk as to get through the next question without embarrassment.

“Have you ever….” Dean actually found himself blushing, which was strange in and of itself. Dean Winchester didn’t DO blushing. He gestured in a way that he knew completely failed to indicate his meaning. “…..ever tried it in the back door?”

Charlie seemed to grasp his meaning, thank God. He didn’t know that he could handle stating it outright. “Well…..yeah. I mean, it’s not like I NEED to…..no pleasure source there for girls like there is for you guys…” And Dean found his cheeks burning up as he blushed yet again. “But you know….nothing like experimenting.”

Now THAT was something he could get behind, grinning. “Amen to that, sister.” He raised his beer and, with a matching grin, Charlie clinked her own bottle against his.

“Why is that, Dean…..” and there was a look to Charlie’s eyes as if she knew there were more to Dean’s inquiries. “…..thinking about doing a little….experimenting…..of your own?”

Dean scratched at the bar top with his fingernail, glancing up at Charlie. “….maybe.” His tone was defensive, as if daring Charlie to say something about it. But she didn’t. At least not in the way he was afraid of. 

“Got anyone in mind?” she asked. Dean looked at her, confused. “To experiment with.”

“Ah…..no.”

There was a moment of quiet; one could almost feel the hesitation in the air. “…well….” Charlie sounded unsure, as though she didn’t know how Dean would react to what she had to say. “….I DO have that strap-on back at the hotel.”

Dean’s head shot up; he stared at her. There was a long silence as the two simply looked at each other. Finally, Dean spoke up, a small smile curving across his lips. “I think I’d have to be a lot drunker to agree to that.”

“Well, then.” Charlie gestured for the bartender. He came over and, with a word, lined up more shots for them. “How bout we continue with this drinking contest and see where things take us?”

Dean smiled. “I can definitely get behind that.”

 

**~*~**

 

Several hours later they stumbled into their room, the door slamming shut behind them. Dean didn’t know the last time he had been so completely drunk, and he wouldn’t wager Charlie was any better off. Speaking of Charlie…Dean quickly figured out that she was one hell of a good kisser.

She broke away with a little giggle. “I’m not used to _this_ ,” she said, stroking her hand against Dean’s cheek, feeling the stubble there. Dean laughed.

“Think I’ve got a lot more than that that you’re not used to.” He paused, considering his words. “…..least not in the flesh and blood way.”

If he wasn’t mistaken, a flush had risen to Charlie’s face. “Why, Charlie Bradbury, are you blushing?”

“No!” Her answer was immediate. “Besides…..thought we were gonna be working with borrowed equipment, here.”

This time it was Dean’s face that heated up, crimson creeping into his cheeks, making his freckles stand out. “Ah…..right.”

Charlie gave him a little shove towards the bed. “Strip, Winchester.”

There was something extremely sexy about the authoritative tone in her voice. “Yes, ma’am.” He wasted no time in complying, toeing off both shoes and socks and shucking his pants, the whole time watching Charlie root around in her bag. With a triumphant “aha!” she emerged, and in her hands…. _oh God_. 

The strap-on was black and shiny, and bigger than Dean himself, and he was no slouch in the size department, if he did say so himself. Fuck. _What’ve I gotten myself into?_

Charlie cast her bra aside and Dean took a moment to take in the view. She really WAS gorgeous. He would say it was a shame she was a lesbian, but a relationship between the two of them would never work out. They were too close. Friends. This entire thing was like a game. A game where he was going to get brutally pounded in the ass. Right. Just a game. He felt a nervous fluttering in his stomach.

Charlie moved towards him, smiling. “Nervous, Winchester?”

“No.” But even Dean could tell how defensive his voice was. Charlie just laughed.

“Hey. It’s okay. We’ll go slow.” She put a hand on his chest and gave him a little shove. “Now on the bed. Hands and knees.”

There was that bossy tone again, and the nervous flutter was replaced by that same wave of lust at the authoritative tone. He complied, kneeling on all fours. Immediately, he felt something wet against his entrance…..wet and extremely cold. He jumped. “Jesus! What the fuck….”

“Relax.” Charlie ran a hand soothingly down his thigh. “Just lube. Help ease the way. Sorry. Should’ve warned you.”

“Damn right,” Dean grumbled, but he did relax….even if it only lasted a minute, lasted until Charlie pressed a finger into him, and he couldn’t help but tense.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just-“

“Relax, I know, I know.” And honestly, after that it really wasn’t that hard. It wasn’t like it hurt. He’d been through way too much pain for something like this to hurt. It was just…..different. Charlie stretched him slowly, two fingers inside him now, stroking and teasing, and it was actually starting to feel good now when suddenly….

“Jesus!” Dean jumped as a jolt of pleasure shot through him. “Holy fuck what WAS that?”

“THAT, my friend, is why men do this.” Charlie repeated the action, pressing her fingers against that sweet spot (prostate, some corner of Dean’s mind reminded him), and he jumped again.

“Fuck! Holy shit okay, fuck, now. Fuck me.” He was dimly aware of Charlie giggling behind him at the ferocity of his demand but he couldn’t find it in him to give a damn. All he knew was that he wanted more of that pleasure and he wanted it NOW.

“Okay, then. If you insist.” And then there was pressure, splitting him, an edge of pain throbbing through the pleasure as Charlie pressed into him, breached him, the head of that strap-on brushing against his prostate as she buried herself completely within him.

He shuddered at the sensation. “Fuck,” he whispered. 

Charlie leaned over him, a hand running through his hair, the other stroking his belly. “You good?”

Dean’s response was to thrust back against her, wanting more. “Yeah, I’m good. More. Give me more.”

Charlie laughed, surprised but amused. “Okay, Dean. You want it so bad, I’ll give it to you.” And she did.

The next few minutes were a blur. Since the day he lost his virginity, Dean hadn’t thought there could be anything better than sinking his cock into a tight, wet pussy, but this? With each thrust, Charlie was turning his world upside-down, managing to rewrite everything he knew or believed about sex. He couldn’t begin to imagine what this would be like with someone he cared about. Somehow a pair of deep blue eyes manifested themselves in his mind and he was coming harder than he could remember coming in……God…..forever.

He collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily. His heart and mind were racing. He realized that he had just thought of having a relationship with someone he slept with. When did he ever do THAT? And those _eyes_ …..where had he seen those eyes before?

Charlie suddenly flopped down beside him and he looked at her. She was smiling at him. “You really got off on that one, huh.”

Goddammit, how many times was he going to blush tonight? He punched her shoulder. “Shut up.”

Laughing, she punched him back. “You should be thanking me. I totally rocked your world.”

Dean couldn’t help laughing despite himself. “Okay, okay. Thank you.” 

Charlie smiled smugly. “You’re welcome.”

A thought suddenly dawned and Dean frowned. “You……did you?”

Charlie nodded. She wriggled out of the strap on and held it up to show Dean the inside. “Vibrator.”

Dean was impressed. “Now that is a fine piece of machinery.”

Charlie grinned. “I’ve always been a fan.” She stretched, folding her arms behind her head. “So…..how do you feel about lesbian sex now that you’ve seen the non-porny, more realistic side of it?”

Dean took a moment to consider. “Far more interesting. And definitely less-stagey. Though I didn’t get to see it with a second girl. Do I get to watch you with a second girl?” Charlie smacked his arm; Dean just laughed.

“And what about the second part?”

Dean feigned ignorance. “What second part?” Now that he was coming down from that post-orgasm high, he was beginning to feel a bit more awkward about what had just happened. 

Charlie gave him a Look. “The gay-sex part.”

“Oh. That.” He took another moment to think this one through, weighing his words. “…..well, I’m definitely a fan of this prostate thing.”

Charlie grinned. “I thought you might be.”

“And……” he didn’t know what else to say. He was not about to admit that he had gotten off on the thought of being fucked by another man, let alone a man he was actually DATING. That was just not going to happen. “……and that’s it.”

Charlie just looked at him. She clearly knew there was more to that answer. “So….what about doing that with another guy?”

“Hey, I have an idea! Why don’t we sleep?”

“Dean!”

“What.”

“You’re not answering me.”

“Nope.” Dean pulled a pillow up under his head, fluffing it.

“Okay. I’m just going to assume that your evasion means that you’re gay.”

“WHAT?!” Dean shot up off the pillow to stare at Charlie, mouth agape.

“Yup. It’s okay,” she said soothingly. “I’m gay, too. No judging. Safe room.”

He glowered. “I hate you so much.”

Charlie grinned. “I know.” She curled up into the pillows, seemingly at peace with the way Dean stared down at her.

“…….I’m not gay,” he said at last. Charlie's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him.

“You can be gay, straight, or bi, Dean, it’s all the same to me. I’m going to like you just the same no matter WHAT you are. When you figure it out, you can tell me, or not. No matter what, you’re still you, and I still love you.”

Her words mollified him, somewhat calming the raging storm of uncertainty within him. “…..thanks, Charlie.”

She smiled. “No problem, Dean.” She closed her eyes, and after a minute, Dean followed suit. It wasn’t long before both of them fell asleep, and if Dean’s dreams were haunted by messy brown hair and big blue eyes, no one was the wiser.

 

**~THE NEXT DAY~**

 

“Mmph?” Charlie blinked awake, looking up. “Oh. Morning, Dean.” It suddenly seemed to sink in that they were in bed together. Naked. She sat up abruptly. “DEAN?!”

“Uhh….yeah.”

“What…..did we? We didn’t. Oh my God we did.”

“Yeah.” Dean handed over more blankets so Charlie could cover herself up. “I’ve been trying to piece together the events of last night.”

Charlie looked around them, taking in the disarray of the room, the strap-on and lube within reaching distance. “…..well, clearly we fucked. And judging from this….” She waved in the general direction of the toys, “I’d say _I_ fucked _you_.”

Dean cringed. “Don’t SAY that.”

“You know it’s true.”

“Yeah, I know it. It doesn’t mean I want to HEAR it!”

Charlie winced apologetically. “Sorry.”

Dean shook his head. “I just….I need a moment, okay? I need to think this through….try to remember what happened.” 

They both fell silent, thinking about last night, recalling the events. Dean flushed as he remembered exactly what happened. How they laughed, how the whole thing had been his idea…..how he had begged for it. Most of all, how he had come thinking about some man. He didn’t even know WHO. All he could picture was a pair of blue eyes and yet somehow he _knew_ that they belonged to a man. _Fuck._

Yet somehow, it all seemed okay. Other than the thought of that man, it didn’t seem all that bad. This was Charlie. They’d just been goofing around. Harmless fun, right? _But you got off thinking of a man_ , a little voice whispered. He shoved it down. He didn’t want to deal with that. The rest he could deal with. The rest didn’t even really NEED dealing with. Harmless fun. It seemed weird that he could think of it that way, but he could. And looking at Charlie, he could tell that she was feeling the same. He felt a wave of relief that things weren’t going to be weird.

“We’re good, right?”

She smiled, clearly relieved that they were on the same page. “We’re good.”

“Awesome.” After a moment, Dean picked up his pillow and walloped her over the head.

“Ow!”

“THAT’S for fucking me in the ass.”

“Oh, you were BEGGING for it.”

“Tch, details.”

Dean found himself being hit over the head with a pillow, Charlie laughing as she got hit in return. Things were as easy and playful between the two as they had always been. Dean was relieved that their evening hadn’t changed their relationship. Somehow things devolved into a violent (if somewhat naked) pillow fight, when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“I got it.” Dean yanked the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around his waist. He pulled the door open and immediately froze.

It was Cas. Dean didn’t know how he found them, but he had. A pillow connected with the back of his head but he barely felt it. He was too busy staring into Cas’ eyes.

Blue. So very, very blue.

He was so totally fucked.

 

**~tbc~**


	2. Chapter 2

Dean couldn't move, frozen in place. He was dimly aware that Cas was simply watching him, gaze steady as he waited for Dean to say something, to initiate conversation. But Dean couldn't say anything, couldn't DO anything but stare into those blue eyes. The same blue eyes he had thought of last night. Thought of while Charlie fucked him into the mattress. The blue eyes which had made him think of relationships and sex with feelings involved and had made him come on the spot.

"Dean." 

His thoughts were interrupted by Cas' gravelly voice, that voice he'd always enjoyed the sound of, and now he realized just how MUCH he enjoyed it. It was so deep and rough and rumbled in his chest and oh God Dean was so completely fucked. 

He realized that Cas was expecting him to answer and he flushed at the knowledge that he'd simply been standing there staring like some kind of idiot. "Uh yeah?"

Cas' expression didn't falter, but he looked down, gaze slowly travelling over Dean's body, naked but for the sheet around his waist. If it were anyone but Cas, the term "undressing me with your eyes" would have come to mind. There was so much intensity in Cas' face, his eyes, as his gaze raked over Dean's bare flesh, and Dean felt his dick begin to take an interest. He felt panic swelling in him. Not good. This was TOTALLY not good.

Most people couldn't read Castiel's seemingly constantly passive expression....but Dean could. And he realized that right now, Cas was pissed. Not just pissed. There was something else there. It was almost as if he were distressed.

“Uh…..hey, Cas. What’s up.”

“Sam’s been looking for you.”

That was strange. Usually if Dean went out to a bar at night and didn’t come home, Sam simply assumed he’d gone home with a girl. Maybe since Dean had gone out with Charlie, Sam had expected them to return. “Okay. Let me just…”

“Get dressed?”

Dean winced inwardly at the tone of Castiel’s voice. “Yeah. That.” He turned away, managing to step on the edge of the sheet in the process and nearly drop it.

Charlie was still sitting on the floor, and looked up at him with questioning eyes. “Cas,” he explained, voice soft.

“Oh.” Her voice was equally quiet. “Everything okay?”

He glanced over his shoulder to where the angel stood watching them, that same inscrutable look on his face. “….I honestly don’t know.” Dean reached for his pants, then gestured to Charlie. “Turn around.”

She arched a brow. “I saw you a lot more than naked last night….now you don’t want me to see you put on your pants?”

He just gave her a look and she held up her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright.” She turned her back, reaching for her shirt. “But I still think you’re being silly.”

“You actually WANT to see my dick?”

“…..good point.”

Dean finished wriggling into his jeans, turning to look for his shirt. It was then that he noticed that the door to the hotel room was still open, Castiel standing there and watching. It looked as though he had BEEN watching the entire time Dean got dressed. He didn’t know exactly how much the angel had seen, just his ass or…..he felt his cheeks burning at the thought. Pushing it aside, he grabbed his shirt and tugged it on, following it up with his shoes and socks. “Okay, Charlie, I guess I’ll see you later.”

The redhead had only made it into a tshirt and underwear. Cas’ eyes narrowed as she wrapped her arms around Dean, pulling him into a tight hug. “You better keep in touch. Been too long since the last time we saw each other.” Looking over Dean’s shoulder, she noticed the look Cas was giving her. Suppressing a smile, she leaned in to whisper in Dean’s ear. “Don’t know that you have to look that far.”

Dean pulled back to look her in the eye, confused. “What?”

But Cas interrupted. “Dean, we really have to go.”

“Okay, okay.” Dean cast one last perplexed look in Charlie’s direction and then Cas’ fingers were on his forehead, spiriting him away from the room.

 

**~*~**

 

Mere seconds later they were back in the Batcave. Dean’s stomach flipflopped at the feeling, as it always did when Cas teleported him anywhere. “I hate it when you do that.”

“I know.” Cas walked away, totally ignoring Dean and his words. He felt miffed, not sure what exactly he had done. Clearly Cas wasn’t pleased with the state he had found Dean in but it didn’t exactly make sense. Maybe when Dean found out why Sam wanted him back, things would become clearer.

As if he knew Dean were thinking of him, Sam chose that moment to enter the room. “THERE you are,” he said when he saw Dean. “Where the hell were you?”

“With Charlie.”

“All night?” Sam was surprised. "What were you doing spending the night at Charlie's?" he asked. "Were you that smashed?"

Dean was about to answer in the affirmative when Cas spoke up. "They were having sex." 

Sam stared, the words slowly sinking in. "What?! You.....you and Charlie? But she's gay!"

"Yeah well I'm irresistible," Dean tried to brush it off. He knew Sam would find out sooner or later, but he'd prefer it were later. 

"Actually," Castiel interjected, and Dean turned to him, a look on his face that could kill. Cas ignored him, gaze on Sam as he continued. "I believe that there were some toys involved, and that Dean was the one receiving sex from Charlie." 

Sam nearly choked, looking to Dean, who was glaring at Cas. The angel, for his part, seemed totally unconcerned. He turned to Dean, and their eyes met. It was clear Cas wasn't answering out of some oblivious sense that he should answer the question. No, he was TRYING to cause trouble for Dean. Dean wanted to throttle him and yet.....he stared into those eyes. _Very blue_. And heat flooded him, burning his cheeks.

“Dean…..you….I mean….” Sam didn’t seem to know how to phrase his words. Sam really wasn’t the judgmental type, but Dean had known he would have some questions about the situation…..hence why he’d wanted to keep it under wraps as long as possible. Still, he didn’t even really hear Sam. He could only stare at Cas, that face, those eyes. He really was so completely and utterly screwed, and not in the good way. Not by Cas. Shit. Did he even WANT to be screwed by Cas? His dick twitched at the idea. _Traitor_ , he thought bitterly.

He became aware of Sam’s words as he heard “Dean, are you even listening to me?”

“No,” he answered truthfully. Sam sighed.

“Whatever. It’s not really important, anyway.”  


Dean was slightly surprised at that. “Really?”

“Really.” Sam shook his head at the look on Dean’s face. “Dean, you can sleep with whoever you want, however you want. You’re my brother and nothing’s going to change that. I was just…..surprised, is all.”

It was all still damn embarrassing, but Sam’s words were reassuring. “…..oh.” Dean managed a smile, despite the vague (if pleasant) discomfort. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“No problem.” Sam smiled. “Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

They were interrupted by the sound of Cas clearing his throat. Dean jumped. He had almost forgotten the angel was there, though how he didn’t know. “Well," and Cas somehow sounded perfectly calm, as if nothing were out of the ordinary (though he still had that look in his eyes that belied that notion), "I should be going."

"Wait, wait," Sam spoke up hurriedly. "We've got a case we could really use you on."

Cas paused, considering, and Sam took that opportunity to begin filling him in on the details. But it was hard to tell if Cas was listening, for his gaze flicked to Dean. Dean flinched beneath it. There was something there that he couldn't quite place....something almost like barely controlled anger and disappointment.....and something else. If he didn't know any better he'd say it was jealousy.

"Dean?"

He snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he hadn't heard a word Sam had said. "Yeah?"

Sam let out one of his Sam Winchester patented long suffering sighs. "Wraith. You in?"

Dean glanced at Cas, but the angel was determinedly no longer looking at him. "Ah...yeah. Yeah."

 

**~*~**

 

It was strange to be fighting another wraith. The last time the brothers had fought one, they had gone undercover in an asylum. Eventually the creature had them believing they themselves were losing their minds. Dean hoped that wouldn’t be the case this time. He didn’t think it was likely. First of all, they had some experience under their belts. Secondly, they had Cas with them. He didn’t need a mirror to see the wraith. That was a HUGE advantage.

This didn’t mean they were immune. Dean sustained a pretty deep cut to the chest, the wraith slicing from his right collarbone to his left pectoral. He barely noticed the injury until they had killed the creature, and then the stinging pain began to set in. “Ow,” he said mildly, looking down at the blood.

For a moment he could swear he saw the worry flicker across Cas’ face, but it smoothed over immediately. “Here.” He reached out, touching two fingers to Dean’s forehead to heal him.

Dean felt the healing energy flood through him and, for some reason, it seemed to rush to the handprint Cas had burned into his shoulder upon rescuing him. He knew it was all in his mind, that he was projecting some sort of desire ( _no_ , his mind scolded him for even thinking the word), but it certainly felt that way, the mark throbbing.  


"Dean?" Cas was staring at him, clearly concerned with the way Dean was simply standing there, silent and unmoving as he regarded Cas.

Dean remained silent, watching Cas and thinking. He wondered what it was like, branding someone that way. Were they now connected somehow? Cas HAD said they shared a profound bond, but what exactly did that MEAN? Could Cas still feel it, the mark that he had left on Dean? Slowly, Dean stretched out an arm, reaching for Cas' shoulder, for the same place where the mark was on his own body.  


Cas watched his progress with uncertainty in his eyes. Then, realization dawned as it clicked what Dean was going to do. Dean's fingertips had barely brushed Cas' shoulder before the angel jumped back as though he'd been burned.

Dean jumped as well, startled. “Cas?” he asked hesitantly. 

Cas stared at him wordlessly for a moment, then with nothing more than the soft flutter of wings, he disappeared, leaving Dean alone and confused.

 

**~tbc~**


	3. Chapter 3

The drive home was exceedingly awkward. It didn’t take long for Sam to start asking questions.

“Well.” The uncomfortable silence was broken. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“No.” Dean’s reply was terse. He didn’t think at this point he could have managed to be particularly friendly, even if he’d wanted to, and to be honest, he DIDN’T want to.

“…..okay.” Sam seemed to understand that he should be treading very lightly. There was a long moment before he spoke again. “So what’s up with you and Cas?”

“I don’t know!” Dean snapped. Sam raised his hands in surrender.

“Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I just….it’s weird, seeing the two of you like that.”

“Yeah, well I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s been like that since he showed up at the hotel and found Charlie and me naked.”

“……….oh.” There was silence but for a tiny noise that sounded a lot like a muffled laugh. Dean glanced suspiciously at Sam.

“What. What’s so funny?”

Sam shook his head. “Nothing. Just a cough.”

Dean turned back to the road, grumbling “yeah, bullshit.”

Back at the bunker, Dean wasted no time in heading straight for his room. He didn’t want to spend any more time talking to Sam. He doubted that Sam would try to initiate conversation again, not after the lack of success in the car, but he didn’t want to risk it. Best thing to do was try to relax. 

Dean flopped on his bed, sinking into the memory foam. He tried to let the memories wash away, but they just kept replaying as if they were on loop.

Why had Cas looked at him that way? Cas knew Dean went out most nights. Well.....not anymore. But he used to. Hell, Dean had even tried to take Cas to a brothel. The angel definitely knew Dean was no blushing virgin....not by a long shot. He knew Dean spent many evenings in the company of many different women. And yet his face....the look in those blue eyes....

Was it because he'd been with Charlie? Dean didn't see how it could be. It seemed strange that Cas would be bothered Dean had sex with a friend rather than a stranger, and it wouldn't be because she was gay. God didn't discriminate against sexuality. Dean had been told that by Cas himself. So what WAS it?

He shook his head, rolling to a sitting position. He could sit here wondering all day and he'd never have an answer. The only solution was to distract himself. Rising, he grabbed the gun off his dresser and headed down the hall towards the range. Maybe shooting something would help get his mind off things.

 

**~*~**

 

Having a gun in his hand provided a decent distraction. True, he couldn’t completely shake the thoughts from his head, but at least he could push them down, shove them deep down in his gut, to some far off corner of his mind where they were only a nagging little voice trying to tempt him into another drawn out internal debate. By this point he wasn't sure how long he'd been in this room, but now that he stopped to think about it, he WAS feeling hungry. Ridiculously so. He had taken a few breaks, mainly to hit the bathroom, but once or twice to grab a snack, and he had returned to his room for a couple of (extremely restless) naps. Still, for the most part he had barely left. He was also pretty sure at one point he had fallen asleep sitting down up against the wall when he had sat down to take a break. So he had probably been here towards the further end of the time spectrum. But all this thinking was only going to lead him back to those distracting thoughts.

He shoved another clip into the gun and emptied the whole round into the target without a pause, each bullet hitting dead center.

“Wow.”

Dean actually startled at Sam’s voice. That was a bad sign. It showed that he was in deep. Deep enough that he could be caught by surprise. That was not good. That was not good at all. Turning, he came face to face with his brother, who was arching a brow at Dean’s obvious surprise to his presence. Dean didn’t wait for him to say anything. “Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Okay,” Sam replied obligingly, but the expression on his face didn’t change.

“I said shut up.”

“And I didn’t say anything.” Sam tossed a pile of papers onto the low wall beside Dean. “Another case came up.”

"Already?"

"Dean, you've been in here for nearly two days straight."

.....ah. "That would explain how hungry I am."

"You think?"

Dean ignored Sam, setting the gun down on the ledge so he could pick up the papers, thumbing through them. He had barely gotten to the second page before Sam spoke up again.

“…..I think we should call Cas.”

Dean felt his heart jump in his chest, whether in hope or alarm, he couldn’t say. He looked at Sam. “Why? I mean…..” He didn’t know what to say. “…..why?” All he got for his troubles was another arched brow. “I mean, this all seems pretty average.” He waved the papers. “Nothing we need Cas for.”

“I don’t know. I just think he’d be helpful.” There was something to Sam’s tone of voice, though. Something suspicious. Dean knew that tone. He knew his brother all too well after years of raising him. That was the way Sam’s voice sounded when he was trying to come off as completely innocent. That was the ‘I’ve done nothing wrong, why are you looking at me that way’ voice.

“Sam…” he began, but Sam interrupted.

“Dean….please. I really think he can help.” 

Dean wasn’t buying it, not for an instant, but Sam gave him those huge puppy eyes that Dean would swear could get him out of anything, and he felt his resolve weakening. “Why don’t YOU call him?”

“He never comes when I call, you know that.”

Dean sighed. “Fine. Fine.” He took a deep breath. This was probably going to suck. “Cas….wherever you are…..if you’ve got time……I mean…if you’re free…..” He realized he was pussyfooting around the question and wasn’t entirely sure why. _Get a hold of yourself._ “We could sure use your help down here.”

He waited. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. “Well. Guess he’s not coming.”

For some reason, Sam looked positively crestfallen. “But he _always_ comes.”

“Sam, the guy’s busy. He can’t always come when we call.”

“When YOU call,” Sam said pointedly. Dean chose to ignore him.

“Yeah well he’s clearly not coming today.”

“Hello, Dean.”

The voice came from so close behind him that he jumped, spinning around and nearly crashing into Cas. The angel was as close as he used to be before he began to adjust to the concept of personal space. He still always stood ridiculously close, but today he was closer than usual…close as he used to be when they first met. They were toe to toe, their noses practically brushing.

Dean was at a loss for anything to say. “….ah….”

“You called me?” Cas asked, voice slightly irritated, as if he didn’t like having to point this out to Dean.

Dean could feel his cheeks burn. “Ah. Yeah. Uh. Sammy?”

Sam was watching the two of them, amusement on his face, and he seemed in no hurry to answer. Dean glowered.

“Sam has a case he thought you could help on,” he continued, turning his attention to Cas once again. The time, Cas was no longer meeting his eyes. No, his gaze was travelling over Dean’s body, examining him as he had at the hotel. Finally, he met Dean’s eyes once more, a look of almost satisfaction upon his face. At last, he turned to Sam.

“Yes, Sam, what is it?” And he stepped away from Dean, the sudden absence of his body heat and the smell that was so uniquely Cas leaving Dean so empty that he felt dizzy with the loss. He didn’t even hear Sam describing the case to Cas. He only regained focus again when he heard that deep, gravelly voice call his name. “Dean.”

And with that one word, with his name upon Cas’ lips, Dean awoke from his thoughts. “Yeah?”

Those gorgeous eyes were on him again, and even though they looked slightly irked to have been kept waiting by Dean’s distraction, he couldn’t care less. They were beautiful. “We’re leaving.”

“Mm. Yeah. Okay.” He grabbed his gun again. “Let’s go.”

 

**~*~**

 

It really wasn’t a complicated case at all. Dean didn’t know what Sam’s purpose was in bringing Cas along, but it wasn’t necessary. Not that he was complaining. It felt nice to have Cas along, even if the angel WAS mad at him. 

Dean scrubbed a hand across his forehead, wiping away some blood. Cas of course looked perfect, not a trace of blood on him, while Dean and Sam looked like crap. It was almost unfair. Dean thought he might be jealous if he wasn’t so damn distracted by the way Cas’ hair looked after the fight. It was mussed, tousled, and Dean found himself wondering if that’s how it looked after a night of wild sex. It was a little alarming to realize how badly he wanted to find out. 

Dean realized suddenly that this was how Cas’ hair had looked the night they had met. Wild and untamed as he had walked into that warehouse, lights bursting around him. He was surprised that he even _remembered_ how Cas had looked. _Guess that night was more important than I thought. Guess **Cas** is…._ But no, he couldn’t let himself finish that sentence.

Speaking of Cas….the angel was discreetly watching him, despite the fact that he’d been determinedly ignoring Dean all day, except for during the fight. Despite Cas’ surly attitude, while fighting he had been fiercely protective of Dean, moreso than of Sam. That was nothing unusual, but given his obvious irritation, it had surprised Dean. And now Cas was watching him while trying to pretend he was doing anything but.

Dean cocked a brow at Cas. “You okay there, Cas?”

At the question, Cas gave up all pretense, walking over to Dean. “Are you hurt?” He reached out to Dean, to the blood that marred his face. Dean shook his head.

“I’m fine. None of it’s mine. Don’t think so, anyway.”

And despite the answer, Cas touched Dean’s forehead. He couldn’t feel any wounds healing, but Cas’ power cleaned up all the blood. Dean smiled. “Thanks.”

Cas nodded. “You’re welcome.”

Dean felt his pocket vibrate as his phone buzzed loudly. “Shit. One second.” He dug the phone out, looking at the screen.

“Who is it?”

Dean looked at Cas in surprise. There was a tone to his voice that Dean was unused to. Something predatory and possessive. He looked to the screen and back at Cas again. “Just Charlie.”

Immediately a cloud rolled over Cas’ face, darkening it with an impossible anger that Dean had never seen before. He never knew Cas could be like this. “……Cas?”

“I must go.” And with the soft fluttering of wings, Castiel vanished, leaving Dean staring after him, phone in hand, utterly bewildered. 

 

**~tbc~**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews make me write faster. (Hint hint... :P )

Dean stared at the spot where Castiel had been mere seconds ago. His phone buzzed again and he shook his head to clear it, opening his phone in frustration. Charlie’s words lit up the screen. _Everything work out okay?_

He really couldn’t deal with this right now. _Not really. I’ll call you later._ He sent the message and flipped the phone shut.

“Dean?”

Dean turned to look at Sam, who was eyeing him with one of those expressions on his face, not quite concerned but almost there, clearly wondering what was wrong. “You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Dean answered tersely.

Sam nodded, seeming to accept the answer, for which Dean was extremely grateful. “Cas left?”

“Yeah.”

“He say why?”

“No.” 

Sam clearly grasped that Dean was aggravated and didn’t press the issue. Cas hadn’t cleaned him up like he had with Dean, and Sam was a mess, blood smeared down his shirt.

“C’mon, Sammy. Let’s get back home and get you cleaned up.”

They drove silently for most of the ride, and Dean was thankful for the quiet. It did nothing to distract him, but at least he didn’t have to try to come up with answers he didn’t have.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s not call Cas for any more cases for a while, okay?”

Even without looking, Dean could tell Sam was smiling, could see the quirk of his lips out of the corner of his eye, could hear it in his voice as he answered “no promises.”

Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, but he said nothing for the rest of the ride back to the bunker.

 

**~*~**

 

For the next few weeks, shooting at the range or working a case were the only things that could keep Dean distracted, and even then not completely. 

Sam didn’t keep his promise of not calling Cas for a while. True, he HAD said “no promises”, but Dean thought he would have held back for more than one case, the bastard. And Cas also seemed to stay mad at him. The angel didn't come as quickly when Dean called him, waiting several minutes almost as if out of spite, and when he DID appear it was with that same air of irritation he had shown at the hotel. There was something else there as well. Castiel’s eyes always raked over Dean, looking him up and down as though to ensure he were fully clothed and not engaging in any sort of sexual shenanigans. Once he had confirmed that Dean's clothes were indeed intact, a look of almost relieved satisfaction would come over his face and he would turn to the matter at hand. However these days, he usually asked Sam what the problem was, rather than turning to Dean as he always did previously. Whatever had pissed him off, it was clearly still eating away at him.

Annoyingly enough, the entire situation seemed to amuse Sam to no end. Whenever Cas was giving Dean a once-over, or when Dean would interrupt while Sam and Cas talked and Cas would turn that withering stare in his direction (oh how Dean flinched beneath that look), Sam would stifle a laugh, as if he knew something the others didn't. It was driving Dean CRAZY. 

He had trouble concentrating anytime Cas was around, and now even when he wasn’t. Dean didn’t know if he had only just developed feelings for Cas or if they had always been there, bricked up behind a wall, but he thought it might have been the latter. It was as if that night with Charlie had broken something in his head. Once he realized who those blue eyes belonged to, some sort of barrier in his brain had come down, and now he could think of nothing but _Cas Cas Cas_. It was incredibly frustrating, made all the worse by the fact that Cas clearly didn’t feel the same, if the way the angel looked at him was any indication. Dean still didn’t know what had changed between them, but these days, Cas’ eyes were always cold and narrowed. Dean missed the way Castiel used to look at him, so warm and soft that he wanted to just wrap himself in that blue and never leave, and yeah okay, maybe he’d had this big gay crush for a lot longer than he’d realized. 

Shaking his head, he shucked his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. Sam and Cas were still outside talking. It had been perfectly clear from the expression on Cas’ face that Dean wasn’t welcome, so he had left, but he was aching to return, to see Cas, even if it meant seeing that look on the angel’s face, the irritation in those eyes he loved so much.

Dean stepped back out into the crisp night air and both men turned to look at him. There it was: that expression he was so quickly becoming used to. It wasn’t really a full look of irritation. No, Cas reserved that for when he initially arrived, when he was giving Dean that strange looking-over. But it still wasn’t an entirely pleasant expression. Sam, on the other hand, had that utterly annoying look of thinly veiled amusement on his face.

Dean shifted uncomfortably. “Hey, guys. What’re we talking about?”

Naturally it was Sam who answered. “Nothing much. Just the job.”

“Ah.” Dean nodded as though he understood, though there really wasn’t anything TO understand. The answer was simple enough. The job itself had been simple as well. Once again, nothing they had needed Castiel for, but Sam had insisted. This time, however, the angel had actually agreed to ride in the impala. Dean had been shocked. 

He realized Cas was staring at him, head cocked.

“Aren’t you cold?” Cas asked. Dean realized that he was in just his t-shirt; he had used the removal of his jacket as an excuse to disappear inside for a few minutes, to escape the awkwardness of Castiel’s obvious testiness.

He shrugged. “Nah, I’m fine.” Though honestly, he WAS a bit cold, goosebumps all along his arms. He just didn’t want to return inside for his jacket, not when Cas was talking to him in a manner actually resembling their normal relationship.

Cas nodded. “Well. I’ll go, then.”

“Wait!” Dean realized how desperate he sounded and flushed. “Don’t you…..do you want to come inside for a while?”

For a moment it looked as though Castiel was actually considering it; then he shook his head. “No, thank you.” He simply looked at Dean, who felt as though those blue eyes would bore right through him. “I’ll see you soon.” And he was gone.

Dean felt a strange feeling, a combination of a sinking in his chest and then a sort of elation. He hated to see Cas go, yet he had almost stayed. Almost. That was better than things had been lately. It was an improvement. Maybe he could still fix things.

He felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder. “I’m going inside.”

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.” Dean turned to follow, then stopped short. “Oh. Forgot my phone in the car. You go ahead, I’ll be in in a minute.” Sam continued into the bunker and Dean headed to the impala, opening the door, but he froze immediately.

There on the seat was one single black feather. Cas’ feather. What it was doing there, Dean had no idea. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Cas’ wings. True, Cas had been in the car that day but how the hell did he lose one of his feathers?

Dean picked it up gingerly, as if he expected it to shatter. He ran a fingertip along it, reveling in the feel of it. It was unbelievably soft. It seemed almost wrong to touch it. And somehow he knew that he wasn’t letting this feather go. Not for anything.

Sam was sitting at the main table when Dean entered the bunker. “Took you long enough.” But he stopped when he saw what Dean held in his hands. “…..is that one of Cas’ feathers?” Dean nodded. “What…..where’d you find it?”

“The car.”

“How the heck did he lose a feather? He didn’t have his wings out.”

“Don’t ask me. I have no idea.” It looked as if Sam was going to ask another question, his mouth open, but Dean didn’t stop walking. “I’m going to bed, Sammy. See you tomorrow.”

Once in his room, Dean moved straight to his bed, sitting down, the feather still in his hands. Carefully, he set it down on the bedside table, right beside the photo of his mother. After Sam, that photo was the most precious thing he had in the world. Now he had the feather. Had to keep the precious things together.

Kicking off his pants, Dean turned off the lights and crawled under the covers, staring at the photo and the feather until he fell into an unsettled but happy slumber.

 

**~tbc~**


	5. Chapter 5

Dean wasn’t sure what the angelic definition was of “soon” but it sure wasn’t the same as the human one. It had been two weeks since Castiel had left with the promise that he would see Dean soon, and there had been not a word. He wasn’t just missing the angel desperately, he was actually worried now. He prayed that nothing had happened. By this point, even shooting at the range couldn’t keep his attention, and he wasn’t even managing to get his four hours of sleep. Sam was spending most of his time watching Dean with concern in his eyes, and honestly, Dean couldn’t blame him. He was running on fumes.

It was seven PM on the sixteenth night with no sign of Cas when Dean’s phone rang. He was lying in bed at the time, struggling for sleep despite the early hour, but he immediately leapt to his feet, rushing to where his phone sat on his dresser. He had known it was a miniscule chance it was Cas. It’s not like the angel needed to use a cell phone to contact them. But at this point, Dean was willing to grab at the tiniest hope he could. Still, this wasn’t Cas. The name on the phone read ‘CHARLIE’ in glowing green letters, and Dean realized with a pang of guilt that he had never called her back.

“Hey, Charlie.”

“Geez, Dean. You forget how to dial a phone?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

“Or maybe…” and now her tone was suggestive, “you’ve just been busy with other pursuits.”

He had no idea how to respond to that. “…..come again?”

“ _You_ know.” And she sounded as though he really should know, as if there was something completely obvious here, which clearly he was missing. “Your angel.”

“….Cas?” Okay, NOW he was confused. “What about Cas?”

“You mean you haven’t hooked up?”

Dean stood there, dumbfounded. “…..I……..WHAT?”

Charlie actually sounded surprised. “You really haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Me and Cas.” Dean said the words slowly, trying to make sense of them.

“Seriously? After the way he looked at us at the hotel, you really didn’t get it?”

Dean tried to shake himself free of the shock currently numbing his body, to think back to the hotel. To the way Cas had looked at the two of them, the way his eyes had taken in Dean’s body almost possessively, that look in his eyes that Dean had thought looked like jealousy but had been so convinced at the time couldn’t be so. And Dean realized now the meaning behind Charlie's parting words at the hotel. The night at the bar, she had asked if he had anyone to experiment with. He'd answered no. And when she left, she'd said he may not have far to look. Because she knew Cas was right in front of him, waiting for him. Wanting him. But Cas was no experiment. Cas was the real deal. To think now that there was even the slightest chance that Cas might want Dean as much as Dean wanted him……Dean felt warmth flooding him.

“Dean? Dean.”

He realized that Charlie was calling his name, and possibly had been for several minutes. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry Charlie.”

“Realization setting in?” Her tone was teasing.

“Shut up. Maybe.”

“What do you _mean_ , maybe?”

“I mean that this doesn’t prove anything for sure. It’s all speculation.”

“Dean!” She sounded completely exasperated with him. “That boy is 100% in love with you.”

“He’s not a boy, he’s an angel.”

“Same difference.”

“It’s not the same at all.” Cas was special, and not just because of how amazing he was with his weird, quirky personality, how dorky he was, how sweet and funny he could be in his own bizarre way, and how Goddamn beautiful he was. No, on top of all that, he was an angel, and that put him a whole ‘nother level above Dean. Was it really possible for an angel to fall in love with _him_?

Charlie heaved a sigh. “I’d argue with you, but I don’t think it’s possible for ANYONE to understand the way your bizarre little mind works, Dean Winchester.”

“Back at you, Bradbury.” He chewed his lower lip, thinking. “So, wait. If he likes me-“

“Loves,” Charlie corrected.

“….likes,” Dean continued. He couldn’t even wrap his head around the thought of Cas having even the vaguest beginnings of romantic feelings for him. To get his hopes up any higher than that, especially to the level of ‘love’, and then have them crushed, would break him. He heard Charlie sigh again. “If he likes me,” he continued, ignoring her, “then why is he acting like he is?”

“Think, doofus. He found us together.”

“….why now? I mean, he’s never gotten mad about other girls before.”

“Well, that answer has two parts. First of all, no one is going to put up with that crap forever. Sooner or later, they’re gonna snap. Generally, the person would just let you know they care, but the impression I’ve gotten of Cas is that he doesn’t follow conventional methods.”

Dean had to smile at that, thinking fondly of all the ways Cas bucked conventions. “No, he doesn’t.”

“I can hear you smiling, Dean.”

“Shut up.”

Charlie laughed. “And the second part, you were with me. He knows we’re friends. So he was probably worried that, since we already had a relationship of sorts, maybe that meant we’d be moving into a deeper relationship. A romantic relationship.”

Suddenly everything made a LOT more sense. “Oh. OH.” Dean shook his head, muttering “dammit, Cas.” So much trouble could have been avoided if Cas could have just stated what was upsetting him. Well….if this really WAS what was upsetting him. Dean still didn’t know if this was the problem. It seemed too much to hope for, that Cas could lo…..care about him.

“Thanks, Charlie.”

“You gonna actually listen to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You gonna make a move?”

Dean was silent for a long moment. “…..I’m gonna see where I stand, first.”

“Dammit, Dean!” Charlie sounded thoroughly exasperated. 

“I know, I know. I’m an idiot. You don’t need to tell me.”

“I’m going to, anyway. Cuz it’s fun.”

Dean laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“And you love me for it.”

“I’ll talk to you later, brat.”

“Bye, idiot.”

Dean hung up the phone, setting it on his bedside table. Charlie had given him a lot to think about. But he couldn’t figure it all out in one night. He turned out the lights and, for the first time in a long time, managed to fall asleep.

 

**~*~**

 

The next few days were frustrating. Dean began to think about every little thing Cas did, and dissect it in a million ways. Did Cas really stand so close because he didn't remember personal space? One would think by now the guy would've learned, would know to stand at least a foot away. And he never crowded Sam the way he did Dean. But did it MEAN something?

If the days were difficult, the nights were a wonderful torture. Dean began to dream of Cas every night, and not just his eyes. In these dreams, he was on all fours again, but this time it wasn't Charlie pressing him into the mattress. He could feel Cas' warm body pressed against his back as he was breached, clenching the sheets in his fists at the sensation of Cas filling him. With Charlie there had been no need for softness or affection, it had just been some goofing around between friends, an experiment. With Cas it was different. Dean felt Cas' fingers trail across his skin, run gently through his hair, Cas' lips trace soft kisses up his back and neck. It was nothing like with Charlie, nothing like with anyone he had ever been with, and he would wake each time full of longing for the real thing. 

Dean wished he had someone to talk to. It wasn't that Charlie wasn't amazing, and helpful, but it sucked not having a man's perspective. Dean had only ever had his brother, and he definitely wasn’t discussing his sex life with Sam. Especially not when it involved Cas, and ESPECIALLY not when Sam got that irritating smile on his face whenever Dean and Cas were anywhere near each other.

And Cas....

Dean felt an uncomfortable flip-flopping sensation. Cas he felt comfortable talking to. It was strange but right from the start he had no trouble speaking with Cas. Even before they were friends, even when Cas was still quiet and awkward (well, MORE awkward), Dean still found it easy to talk to him. Things just flowed between them but this certainly wasn't a conversation he could have with Cas. 

Other than that, there was only Benny….who was gone.

Dean huffed a small laugh at the thought of that conversation. Benny, big, gruff, sweet as a teddy bear Benny, talking to Dean about his suppressed homosexual urges.

.....actually, Benny would've probably been perfect for this. Not that Dean would've ever had the guts to bring it up. 

Honestly, Dean really was a wimp where it counted. Which was one of the many reasons he was going to end up alone.

“Dean?” The voice echoed from down the hall.

“Yeah, Sammy?” He didn’t rise from his bed, looking at Cas’ black feather as he twirled it gently between his fingers, careful not to damage it.

“Cas is back.”

Dean’s heart leapt in his chest; he was on his feet in an instant. “Cas??” But he didn’t have to take a step, for Cas was there, stepping into his room. Dean’s heart was going a mile a minute; he never would have thought Cas would actually come to see him personally….not with the way the angel had been behaving. “Hey, Cas.” He wasn’t ashamed of how his voice broke on Castiel’s name.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas looked harried. His tie was even more askew than usual and his hair was a mess, as if he had rushed to get here. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get back. I didn’t….” but he broke off, stiffening as he saw the feather in Dean’s hand. "Where did you get that." His voice was almost as taut as his posture. 

Dean was confused but then again, everything about Cas confused him lately. "It was on the seat of the impala," he answered. "After you left last time."

Cas stared, but the weight of the look was heavier than usual. ".......give it back," he said at last.

Dean was taken aback. "No," he finally managed.

Castiel's eyes narrowed. "Give it. Back." Each word was annunciated.

Dean clutched the feather to his chest. He didn't know why the feather was so important but it was....he felt it, too. Somehow, for some reason, it was precious to him, and he couldn't bear the thought of giving it back to Cas. “No,” he repeated.

Castiel glared at him. “Dean,” he growled, but Dean wouldn’t budge, simply staring back at him. All he could think was that clearly Charlie was wrong, that Cas couldn’t possibly love him if he wouldn’t even let Dean have this one feather.

“…..please,” Dean whispered. It was all he could manage, holding the feather tight to his chest. 

Castiel was still giving him that look, fury in his eyes, but there was something else behind the anger…..pain, and more…..a sort of brokenness that hurt Dean far more than that rage ever could. And without another word, Castiel vanished even quicker than he had arrived.

For a long moment, Dean simply stared at the space where Cas had been. He felt as though part of him had been torn out and taken along when Cas left. Shaking his head, he turned away.

"See Dean? This is why you can't have nice things," he mumbled to himself. He didn't even know what he meant by "this", only that it was true. Dean Winchester didn't get nice things, because the few he did get, he always ruined somehow, broke or tarnished them until there was nothing left. He didn't want to add Cas to that list. He couldn't bear it. Better to not even put him there in the first place. _Stop aiming so high, Winchester._ Even if there was the slightest possibility Cas DID feel the same way (and after that encounter just now, it seemed HIGHLY unlikely), Dean knew he didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve CAS. He'd only screw it up, just like he did everything else. And he couldn't do that to him. Not to Cas. _Don't hurt Cas. **Never** hurt Cas._

Dean headed into the kitchen, the feather still in hand. He could feel the burning pinpricks of tears behind his eyelids. Sam looked up as he entered.

“What happened? Where’s Cas?”

“Gone.” The word felt heavy and wooden on his tongue.

“Gone? Already?”

Dean didn’t answer, simply moved to where the drinks were kept and picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels, then moved to the fridge and pulled out a few beers. He didn’t look at Sam but he could feel his brother’s concerned gaze on him.

“Dean.”

Dean didn’t even pause, simply headed back to his room with his acquisitions and shut the door behind him. Setting the bottles aside on his bedside table, he locked his door and shoved the dresser up against it. It wouldn’t keep Sam out if he was really determined but it would at least show him that Dean didn’t want any company. Then, ignoring the banging on the door, he settled in to get heavily drunk, hoping that doing so would erase all thoughts of Castiel from his mind. 

Instead, half an hour later Sam managed to get into the room and find Dean sitting on the floor, back against his bed, an empty bottle of Jack in one hand and Cas’ feather in the other, face wet with tears.

“What’d I do wrong, Sammy,” Dean mumbled. Sam carefully pulled the bottle from Dean’s hand, but he knew better than to attempt the same thing with the feather. “What’d I do wrong.”

“Nothing, Dean.” Sam wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist. “C’mon, up we go.” He helped his brother up and into bed. “I’m gonna get you a glass of water, okay?” As he headed out the door, he heard his brother say something that sounded suspiciously like “hates me.”

Sam quickly returned with a tall glass of cold water. He sat on the bed beside Dean and held it out. “Here. Drink this.”

Surprisingly enough, Dean drank it obligingly. “Hates me,” he mumbled. Sam could barely hear him. He leaned in closer.

“Hates you? Who hates you? Cas?” Dean nodded. Sam had to use all his willpower not to laugh. “Dean…” He took the empty glass and set it on the nightstand, giving Dean a little push to get him to lie down. “Cas loves you.”

Dean just shook his head, looking away. “Hates me.”

Sam fought back a sigh. “Go to sleep, Dean.” He collected all the alcohol on his way from the room, pausing in the doorway. Dean was curled up, clutching the black feather as though it was the most important thing in the entire world, tears still filling his eyes. It made Sam’s heart ache. He could count on one hand the amount of times he had seen Dean cry since he hit double-digits, and now here he was, crying his eyes out and drowning his pain in alcohol because he was in love….something which should make him happy.

Sighing, Sam shut the door quietly so as not to disturb Dean. He was at a complete loss. He hadn’t wanted to interfere, but in the end he couldn’t just sit back and watch as the two tore each other apart through sheer blind stupidity. He leaned against the wall, looking up. “Cas, I don’t know if you’re listening, but whatever’s going on with you and Dean, you’ve got to work it out, okay? He’s miserable. I know you care about him, and he cares about you, so please. Stop hurting each other.”

Well, he had put his two cents in. All he could do now was hope that his message had gotten through.

 

**~*~**

 

Castiel listened in silently to Sam’s words. He didn’t dare to hope, but could it be true? Could Dean possibly have feelings for him? Then why…..why Charlie? Why any of the women, but especially why her? Then again, Sam hadn’t outwardly stated that Dean had feelings for him, but it was implied, wasn’t it?

Maybe he had been hasty in his behavior this evening. But to see his feather in the hands of one who had feelings for another…..how to explain to Dean why it was so important without actually explaining Castiel’s own feelings for the man? Impossible. But then again, why would Dean want the feather so badly if he didn’t have feelings for Castiel?

Cas shook his head. It was all too puzzling. He couldn’t do anything right away. He would have to wait, and observe Dean, and see if he could determine what his true feelings were. At any rate, he would have to return and apologize for his behavior. 

Tomorrow. He would return tomorrow.

He only hoped that Dean still wanted to see him.

 

**~tbc~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://smg.photobucket.com/user/el_snicket/media/feather%20fight%20merged_zpsp36r8yle.jpg.html)   
> 
> 
>  
> 
> A reader on fanfiction.net created this adorable drawing for me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're stealing my heart again  
> Through every single move you make  
> And conquer over me with every glance of your blue eyes.  
> Hear the sound of my heart  
> Pounding in my chest for you.  
> I am helpless for you.  
> ~'Captivated' by Slow Coming Day~

Unfortunately, Castiel could not make it back to Dean the next day. He should have expected it, what with the run of luck he’d been having lately. He was needed elsewhere, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get out of it. He tried to call in every favor he was owed, but to no avail. So instead he was stuck at a job he hated, longing to return to Dean’s side and make things right.

It didn’t help that, even if he tried to shut Dean out, it didn’t work. Dean wasn’t even praying to him, yet still his thoughts and emotions radiated in a way no one else’s ever had. The two had always had a connection. Usually Castiel was grateful for this, but now….

Dean was so clearly hurting. It throbbed through him, sending pangs of pain throughout Castiel, all the way to the very core of his being. And even though Dean wasn’t praying, Cas could still catch snatches of his thoughts, _Cas_ and _please_ and _so sorry_. He ached to return to Dean’s side, to apologize, to hold him close and tell him everything was alright. Yet he didn’t know that he would even have the courage to do so once he had the chance. He had never thought himself to be lacking in courage until he met Dean Winchester. Not only did the man have a bravery and strength of character unlike any Castiel had seen before, but he made the angel feel weak in a way he never had. Dean made Cas question himself, and had shown him how to feel…..how to open up and let emotion flood through him. Unfortunately, Cas still wasn’t so good at _expressing_ those emotions…..especially to Dean. It was in talking to Dean that Castiel was the most cowardly. One look into those green eyes with their flecks of gold, and it seemed as if every word died upon his lips, leaving him bereft of anything intelligent to say.

He shook his head stubbornly. Not this time. It had been two days. Tonight he could go see Dean, and this time, he wouldn’t let his fear get the best of him. This time, he wouldn’t back down. Tonight, he would make things right. And then he would be nicer than he had been lately, kinder, and try to judge what it was Sam had meant, to see what Dean’s true feelings were, and maybe, just maybe, Dean loved him in return.

Castiel sighed. 6:10. Only 2 hours and twenty minutes to go.

He couldn’t wait.

 

**~*~**

 

Dean hadn’t gotten out of bed since Cas had left two nights before, other than for the necessary trips to the bathroom. He wasn’t eating, even when Sam turned up at his door and tried to bribe him with pie. In his head, he knew he was being stupid, that he needed to get over this and pull himself together, to get himself in shape and get back to work, but he just couldn’t bring himself to move. _A little while longer…..just a while longer and I’ll get up_ , he told himself for the hundredth time.

Sam had been checking on him every few hours. After a while Dean had figured out that he had to make some kind of response or Sam would actually come over to the bed and pull the blankets back from over his head to make sure Dean was still alive (he had done it more than once before Dean had figured it out). Better to answer and be left alone, other than the occasional offer of food and the more frequent insistence that Dean drink something.

Sam hadn’t yet insisted that Dean get up, for which Dean was incredibly grateful. He knew he was acting like some lovesick teenage girl, and still Sam was being incredibly patient with him. Sam really was the greatest brother ever, no matter how much crap he’d pulled in the past couple years, with Ruby and all that psychic bullshit. And here Dean was, keeping secrets in the same way he always gave Sam a hard time for. He shook his head. He couldn’t do that to Sam, _wouldn’t_ do it. He pushed himself to a sitting position, calling out “hey, Sammy?”

Sam appeared in the doorway in a matter of seconds. “Yeah?”

Dean gestured to the bed. “Sit down a minute, will you?”

Sam’s face looked like it was trying to do several things at the same time, look concerned and reassuring and calm all at once. But he sat. “What is it, Dean?”

Dean wasn’t quite sure how to begin, so he simply took a deep breath and dove right into it. "......I might.....like....Cas."

"I know."

Dean scowled at the immediacy of Sam's response. This was incredibly hard for him to say; he didn't need Sam making it worse. "No, you idiot. Like.... _LIKE_ like him."

"I KNOW," Sam repeated, annunciating each word slowly as though speaking to a dimwitted child. Dean stared at him. Sam sighed. "Dean, I've known how you feel about Cas practically since the beginning. Think it really set in after I came back from hell.”

Dean tried to say something but words didn't seem to want to come. "....you.....but how? _I_ only realized it after this thing with Charlie!"

"I think maybe you only LET yourself realize it," Sam said tactfully. Dean had to admit that was true. "Dean, the way you _look_ at him....it’s plain as day. And it’s just the same how he looks at you."

"You think?" So it wasn't just Charlie. Sam thought Cas liked him, too.

“...Dean...." Sam laughed softly, shaking his head. "It’s all over his face. And Cas is usually about as emotionless as a rock."

"Cas is NOT..." Dean began hotly, but seeing Sam's smile and arched brow, he broke off, flushing.

"I didn't mean emotionless. More like expressionless. That's the other thing, Dean. You're the only one who's ever been able to read him. You can tell what he's feeling when no one else can, even some of the angels who've known him for God knows how many millennia."

A small smile curved across Dean’s lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And seriously, you two are being incredibly stupid about this whole thing.”

“I didn’t know!” Dean protested. “I didn’t know that he felt….any of this! I didn’t realize he was upset about me and Charlie! I thought he was just mad at me for some reason!”

“Yeah. Cuz you’re an idiot.”

Dean glowered. “Shut up. Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Dean was feeling much better now that two people both thought that Cas had feelings for him, but one thing still confused him and made the whole thing seem incredibly unlikely. “But what about the feather?”

Sam’s brow furrowed. “Feather? What happened with the feather?”

Oh. Right. Sam hadn’t been there for that. Dean filled him in, feeling a dull aching flood his chest at the memory.

“….huh.” Sam looked pensive. “Now that one I don’t know.” Seeing the sadness and pain on Dean’s face, he rushed to continue. “But I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. He loves you, Dean, I know it.”

“Yeah, maybe.” It still seemed too much to hope for, especially after last time, when he’d gotten his hopes up after speaking with Charlie only to have them dashed to pieces when Castiel demanded the feather returned to him.

Dean’s thoughts were interrupted by the soft flutter of wings, and there was Cas. He looked just as hassled as he had the other day, his hair a gorgeous mess just as it had been the first night they met, and God, Dean wanted to bury his fingers in those soft brown locks and tug, pull Cas into a kiss and just never let go. Instead he simply stared. He knew he looked a mess, that his eyes must be red-rimmed and puffy from all the crying, his skin pale, his own hair as messy as its short length allowed. “……hey, Cas.”

If the way Castiel was looking at him was any indication, he was right in his estimation of his appearance. “Hello, Dean.”

Sam rose from the bed. “I’ll just leave you two alone.” Dean’s attention snapped to Sam and he looked at him with huge eyes, unsure if he wanted Sam to leave or not. Sam simply gave him a reassuring smile and left.

Dean turned his attention back to the angel in the center of the room. Cas was still looking at him. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

He was taken aback. “Why?”

“For the things I said. For the things I did. For the way I’ve been behaving lately.” As he spoke, Castiel moved closer, finally sitting on the bed beside Dean. “I haven’t been treating you fairly….ever since I found you….” He broke off as though the memory still hurt him, and Dean felt a flicker of hope that Sam and Charlie did indeed have it right. “….since I found you with that girl.”

“….Cas….” Cas was resolutely not looking at Dean. He took a deep breath, steeling up his courage. This wasn’t going to be an easy topic to broach, but they needed to get this all out in the open and figure out where they stood. "Cas, Charlie..." Cas tensed at the name and Dean's heart leapt, terrified Cas was going to fly away. He grabbed Cas' arm, holding him. He knew the angel could escape, blip free from his hold anytime he wanted to. But he didn't. Castiel was still there. Dean took that as a good sign, even if the look on Cas' face was anything BUT positive.

"...Cas," he began again. "Sex with Charlie didn't mean anything." Cas simply stared, but Dean thought he saw something move behind those eyes. "Well....I mean." His grip on Cas' arm eased up. He didn't let go, still afraid of Cas leaving. He stared down at the soft fabric of Cas' brown jacket, toying with the sleeve. ".....I told her I was...well....and she said she'd help..."

God. Talking to Castiel had always been so easy. Right from the start everything with them had come almost as natural as breathing. This, now? Dean hadn't felt this awkward since he was fourteen and Sammy had walked in on him jerking off to a stolen copy of Playgirl. He'd managed to hide it quick enough and Sammy was still too young to really understand much about homosexuality, but that had been Dean's first and last foray into that territory. Until Charlie had set him on this course. Until Cas had walked in on them that day and those blue eyes had stirred something in Dean, made him realize that he'd been pushing his feelings down for FAR too long, realize just how long he'd loved Cas, how MUCH he loved Cas. Cas, who was currently staring at Dean with that puzzled confusion he knew all too well; head tilted, brow furrowed, blue eyes narrowed in puzzled concentration, as if he can figure out the mystery if he just tries _hard enough_. 

And God help him, Dean couldn't stop himself. Before it even registered, he had Cas' face in his hands and he was kissing him. It wasn't at all like the smooth kisses Dean prided himself on. This was a rushed, clumsy thing, and he pulled away quickly, his words coming out in a breathless rush. "I love you."

Castiel was staring at Dean, his eyes huge. They had never looked so blue before. Dean felt as if he would drown at the intensity of that gaze. And then myriad of emotions danced over Castiel's face. Happiness, hope, uncertainty. Then a sort of wariness took over and he shifted backwards, away from Dean, whose heart jumped, panicked. "You were saying? About Charlie?"

Oh. OH. He hadn't ever fully explained. He couldn't imagine what Castiel must be thinking right now. "I...I told her I was...curious."

"So you've said." 

"Will you let me finish?" Castiel nodded. Dean took a deep breath and continued. "I was curious about..." _God_ , it was hard to say. "....having sex with guys. And Charlie, she has....well I mean, she's got stuff she uses with girls so she offered....as a friend, you know?"

"I see." Castiel's voice was carefully emotionless, and Dean hurried to finish.

"But while we were...."

"Having sex?"

Dean winced as Cas offered up the words. "Yeah. I kept picturing someone else. You." Castiel's face remained mostly blank, but Dean didn't miss the way his eyes widened ever so slightly. "I didn't realize it was you until I saw you the next day but I kept thinking bout these eyes.....and then I saw you there at the door....and it was you. Your eyes. And after that it all sorta just.....came out. It was like I'd been wanting you all this time and just never let myself think it, never let myself know it. And now..... _GOD_ , Cas..." He reached out, fingers trembling ever so slightly as they reached to touch Castiel's cheek. The angel watched his progress, eyes still unreadable, and Dean prayed, he PRAYED that Cas would let allow the touch.

When his fingers brushed that soft skin, the rough stubble, he nearly sighed in relief and happiness. "Cas...."

Castiel leaned into Dean's touch, allowing Dean's palm to frame his jawline. "Dean." His own hand came up to cover Dean's. Dean couldn’t resist; he leaned in for another kiss.

"Dean." Cas stopped him, a hand on his chest to hold him back. "Is this what you want? What you _really_ want?" And Dean knew that the question went much deeper than it sounded. Cas wasn't just asking if Dean wanted the physical contact; he was asking if Dean wanted _him_ , wanted _all_ of him, body, heart, and soul.

Dean cupped Cas' face in his hands and kissed him, soft and chaste. "Yes," he said softly. Cas' eyes were wary but hopeful, so hopeful as they searched Dean's face for the truth behind that 'yes'. "I've never wanted anything more in my entire life."

The look that filled Castiel's face was more beautiful than anything Dean had ever seen. The love, the passion and joy, the sheer adoration. He smiled. "Not for nothing, Cas, but the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid."

Cas didn't seem to know whether to laugh at the remembered quip, to hit Dean for being a smartass, or to kiss him. He seemed to decide that the third option was the best and surged forward, claiming Dean's mouth in the fiercest, most amazing kiss Dean could remember having since.....ever.

Dean could barely breathe when they broke apart. Those graceful fingers were stroking their way through Dean’s short hair, teasing patterns along his scalp. It felt better than it had any right to. “ _Cas_ ,” he breathed, pressing in to the touch.

Cas cupped Dean’s cheek with his other hand, thumb stroking along his lower lip. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured.

Dean felt his cheeks flush. “Shaddup, Cas. M’not a chick.”

“No,” Castiel agreed. “But you _are_ beautiful.”

Dean’s face was burning with blush; he grabbed the front of Cas’ shirt and pulled him into another bruising kiss, pulling away to say breathlessly “gotta get these clothes off,” quickly adding on “and no blipping them away. I wanna take ‘em off myself.”

That made Cas smile, but there was an unmistakable blush of heat behind it. “As you wish.”

Dean slid his hands underneath the jacket, pushing it off Cas’ shoulders, letting it slither to the floor. Immediately, he went to work on Castiel’s shirt, flicking the buttons open one by one. He had that blue tie looped around his hand, using it to hold the angel close. Cas glanced towards the doorway. “Should we…..”

“Mm?” Dean was too busy nuzzling along Cas’ jawline to pay much attention. Cas bit back a tiny moan.

“Dean….that is….very distracting.”

“S’meant to be.” But he let out a noise of disappointment as Castiel pulled away, standing up. “Caaaaas,” he whined.

Cas smiled at the tone of voice, toeing off both shoes and socks as Dean watched him from his seat on the bed. Now barefoot, he headed to the door, softly shut it, and turned to Dean with a smile. “I didn’t think Sam would want to listen to us.” He slipped his shirt from his shoulders, pulling the tie loose in one smooth tug that had Dean shivering. “And I intend to make you very…. _very_ ….loud.”

Cas watched Dean with a smile in his eyes as he returned to the bed, undoing his belt as he went. Dean had watched Castiel’s progress with eyes hazy with lust; now he grabbed the ends of Cas’ belt, yanking him closer. Cas made a noise of surprise at the sudden relocation, then chuckled. “Dean…” He ran his hands through Dean’s hair.

Dean nearly purred at the sensation, hands working to undo Cas’ slacks. “So now, the million dollar question…” He glanced up at Cas, the questioning look the angel wore, and grinned. “ ….what kind of underwear does Castiel, angel of the Lord, wear?” Cas huffed out a laugh. Still grinning, Dean pushed the pants off Cas’ slim hips and looked up, their eyes meeting. “So you’re a boxers man.”

“Apparently so.”

Dean had to laugh at that. “Apparently?” 

“I’ve never really debated the pros and cons of boxers or briefs,” Castiel answered. Dean shook his head fondly.

“Such a dork.” He placed a kiss on Cas’ hipbone, eliciting a tiny sound. “Not that it much matters.” Another kiss.

“Haa…..why is that?”

Dean glanced up at Castiel, a smirk on his face. “Because you’re not gonna be in them much longer.” And he tugged them down, freeing Cas’ cock. It was perfect; hard and flushed, the tip beaded with precum. He leaned in to lick that droplet off and heard Cas’ breath catch. It occurred to him, somehow for the first time, that this was truly all new for Cas. He resolved then and there that he would make Castiel’s first experience the best anyone had ever had.

This first step presented a challenge. Dean stared at Cas’ cock. He had never given a blowjob before. Still, he was determined to give the best damn blowjob ever.

“Dean?” Dean looked up. Cas was staring down at him, head tilted in that manner of his, concern on his face. “What is it?” 

Dean realized he’d been sitting there for several moments, simply staring at Cas’ naked body. He smiled reassuringly, thumbs stroking Cas’ hipbones. “Nothing, baby.” He had no idea where the pet name came from, and he supposed he should have cringed with awkwardness at the use of it, but it just fell from his lips so naturally. He didn’t waste any time thinking about it. “You’re just…”

Cas didn’t push him, simply waited for an answer, head still cocked.

Dean sighed happily, nuzzling one jutting hipbone. “Perfect,” he finished.

“Dean.” It was easy to hear the various tones to Cas’ voice. Despite his belief in Dean’s exaggeration, he was still pleased at the high opinion Dean had of him. “That’s an exagger-“

But Dean cut him off, nosing his way along Cas’ soft belly and lower; finally daring to lean in and tease his tongue along the underside of Cas’ cock. Cas’ words turned into a gasp at the sensation of that heat trailing a wet path from his balls to the tip of his cock. “Dean!”

“Shhh.” Dean hushed him. He looked up at Cas, at his flushed cheeks. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” And shoving all nervousness down, he leaned in and took Cas’ hard length into his mouth.

It was almost too much, such a foreign feeling, that he had a slight moment of panic, but it vanished as soon as he heard Cas, who let out a half sobbed “ _oh!_ ”. Just like that, Dean got himself under control. He had barely done anything and Cas was enjoying it. He could do this. 

It also felt strangely good, having Castiel’s cock in his mouth. Dean had never known anything but women, but this? There was something so nice about this hard heat, the salty taste of Cas’ skin and precum, the little motions of his hips, small thrusts that he seemed to be trying and failing to hold back. No, it wasn’t just nice…..it was downright _wonderful_. 

Dean moved his hands to Castiel’s hips, encouraging him to move. In return he got hands clenching fistfuls of his hair and pulling _hard_. _Fuck_ , but that felt awesome. He groaned around his mouthful and apparently that felt good, cuz without any warning Cas was coming, hot spurts right down Dean’s throat. He wasn’t ready for that and he choked a bit, some of it splashing on his cheek. In some dim corner of his mind he hoped that wasn’t reading as ‘amateur cocksucker’ but rather looking as hot as it did all those pornos.

The grip on his hair eased, but he’d barely had a chance to notice before Cas had dropped to his knees and was kissing Dean with everything he had. His hands were cupping Dean’s face; one of his thumbs had landed right in the spot of cum, but he didn’t seem to mind. No, rather as he kissed Dean, he gently rubbed it into Dean’s cheek with his thumb, and fuck all if THAT wasn’t sexy.

He was breathless when he pulled away. Dean stared at him with wide eyes. Cas just smiled, stroking his cheek.

“You continue to amaze me, Dean Winchester.”

Dean couldn’t handle the way Cas was looking at him, as if he were something spectacular, something precious. So he handled it as he always did: with a joke. “My cock-sucking abilities were that good, huh?”

Cas sighed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it.” Too late, he realized what he said, and froze. They stared at each other, Dean’s eyes wide and scared, Castiel’s unbelievably calm despite the situation. “I….I mean…”

“Yes, I do.”

Dean felt his heart stop. “…..what,” he asked, voice weak.

“Yes, I do love you for it. And for a myriad of other reasons.” Cas reached out and caught Dean’s face in his hands again, raising his chin so their eyes were level, looking at him very seriously as he repeated himself. “I love you, Dean.”

It was as if a dam burst inside Dean’s chest. Too many feelings kept locked away for too many years, things he’d wanted and never had, and now this….the one thing he’d wanted more than _anything_ , more than all of those other things put together, and it was HIS. He was actually getting it. He didn’t know if he could handle it. His heart was pounding; he couldn’t breathe. But Cas was eyeing him with concern in those blue eyes, and that was enough to sober him up. Had to get himself under control. _Can’t hurt Cas_. He grabbed tight to that one thread of conscious thought and pulled himself free from his overflow of emotions, throwing himself at Cas and kissing him with everything he had.

“I love you, too,” he blurted out. “More than anything ever.” 

The smile that lit up Cas’ face was beautiful to behold. Those eyes seemed to glow from within, and then _oh, oh fuck_ , Cas was scooping him up off the floor and carrying him to the bed and oh yes, Dean liked where this was going. It was strange to be the one on their back, Cas kneeling above him, boxing him in with both arms and legs as he peppered kisses down Dean’s bare throat, but damn, it was wonderful. Dean could do nothing but lay there and let Cas ravish him and fuck, when did he become such a girl, thinking words like “ravish”?

Maybe it had something to do with Cas’ stupid fucking eyes. They were way too Goddamn blue. Like, romance novel blue. He looked like some Goddamn romance novel hero and now he had Dean writhing beneath him on the bed and _fuck, does that make me the heroine?_

Strangely enough, Dean found that the idea didn’t bother him that much. Not so long as Cas kept doing _that thing_ with his mouth.

“Cas…” his voice was far too quiet. It was hard to get words out while Cas lavished attention upon his all-too-willing body.

“Mm?” The sound vibrated against Dean’s flesh and made him shiver and moan. He tugged uselessly at Castiel’s hair.

“Cas.”

“What.”

“……fuck me?”

THAT stopped Castiel in his tracks. He froze, entire body going stiff, then he shifted so that he and Dean were face to face. “You…..”

Dean nodded. He didn’t want to let Cas continue talking. If he continued, it would only go into different directions and further discussions, and he’d have to come out and say that what they were doing was really _making love _, which he knew to be true but it was just way too touchy-feely to say. He couldn’t handle that.__

Instead, his hand found Cas’ and he laced their fingers together. “Please, Cas.” With his other hand, he cupped Cas’ cheek, stroking his rough jawline. “I want this. You. _Need_ you.” 

It would be impossible to miss the flush of desire that brought to Castiel’s face. He captured Dean’s mouth. Dean’s tongue teased along the seam of his lips until Cas opened to him and their tongues tangled together. Cas moaned into his mouth and rolled downwards, their hips coming into sharp contact. 

Dean broke from the kiss. “Cas,” he gasped. “Cas, please.” 

Cas nodded, kissing him again. “Of course, Dean.” But when Dean began wriggling out from underneath him, his brow took on that furrowed look of puzzled discontent he so often wore. “Dean, what are you-“ But Dean turned to him, holding up the lube he had just pulled from his nightstand. “Oh.” 

Smiling, Dean tossed it to him. “Know what you’re doing, right?” 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dean. I may technically be a virgin, but I have been around for millennia. I am more than familiar with the practice.” 

Dean laughed at Cas’ words and the snarky attitude, but he couldn’t help the little shiver that rolled through him at the thought of Cas being a virgin. Somehow there was something impossibly sexy about that…about being the first person Cas had ever been with. Combined with the part about Cas being so old, and the fact that he could tear Dean to shreds without raising a finger or even batting an eye……fuck. Castiel was one giant package of sexy (though Dean knew some of these things were probably NOT things he should find attractive. What could he say? He’s twisted like that.). 

Instead of saying anything in response, he simply lay back, spreading his legs to Castiel. “Well, then. Get to work.” 

Cas arched an eyebrow at the command, trying to act unaffected, but it was clear that wasn’t the case. No. As soon as Dean had spread his legs, putting himself on display, a flush had risen to Cas’ cheeks, and it hadn’t stopped there. Dean was pleased to see that Castiel’s blush spread down his throat and just onto his chest. It was unbelievably attractive. 

Without a word, Cas uncapped the lube, pouring some into his hand. He worked it between his fingers as though testing the consistency. Dean was losing his mind. 

“ _Caaaas_ ,” he whined. 

Castiel smiled. “Patience,” he said soothingly, a hand stroking Dean’s thigh, far too close to his groin to be anything remotely _close_ to soothing. Then those slim, graceful fingers were in between his legs and he could feel one pressing against him, pressing inside… 

Dean let out a hiss of breath. It had been a while. It had been a LONG time since Charlie, but he had done this a few times to himself since then….hence the lube. He hadn’t been able to help himself. He had spent many nights in his room, fingers searching for his prostate as his other hand worked his cock, biting his lip hard to prevent himself from crying Cas’ name as he came. 

Still, it had been a while. Things as of late had been too hectic, too emotional…..and this time was for real. This wasn’t Charlie, or himself alone in his room. This was Cas. That made it much more difficult to relax. 

As if Cas could sense his thoughts, he spoke up. “I believe you are supposed to relax?” 

Dean didn’t know whether to laugh or wallop Cas with a pillow. “Shut up and don’t stop.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing his body to relax. It must have worked, for he felt Cas work another finger into him. _“Fuck.”_

“Are you okay?” 

_Oh God_. Dean had always known Cas had a sex voice, even before he had romantic feelings for the angel, but this? This was just way too good for him to ever have imagined. He nodded, breathing “perfect. It’s perfect, Cas.” 

And it was. That initial stretching pain was over and now it was only pleasure rolling through him, a slight burning edge to it but it felt absolutely fantastic. Then one of Cas’ fingers brushed that tiny bundle of nerves and, just like the first time, Dean went crazy. “Holy…!” His hips bucked, but he managed to keep the religious profanity in check around Cas, and on some level (underneath the pleasure coursing through his body and clouding his mind) he was proud of himself. “Fuck. That. There.” 

“Here?” Cas prodded the spot again and Dean had to clutch at the sheets to retain some shred of control over himself. 

“Yes! That. Don’t stop, Cas. Fuck.” With a nod, Castiel continued. Dean stared up at him, the angel’s face full of a mixture of lust and concentration, determination to make this good for Dean, and it sank in fully what was finally happening. This wasn’t Charlie, or his own hand, or even the Castiel of his dreams. No, he was looking up at Cas, the _real_ Cas, working him open so slow and tenderly and fuck, Dean was overcome with such a tremendously overwhelming need, his hands shooting out and grabbing Cas, fisting in his hair. Those eyes looked up at him in surprise. 

“Enough, Cas, stop. M’ready.” 

Cas tried to interject, clearly concerned. “Are you su-“ but that’s as far as he made it before Dean was interrupting, nodding his head rapidly. 

“Positive. Want you, Cas.” His hands slid from Cas’ hair down to cup his face, and he gently pulled the angel into a kiss. “ _Need_ you.” 

He saw the effect his words had on Cas, the heat that flared behind those blue eyes, and then he saw nothing else for Cas was kissing him, hard and wet, with teeth and tongue and oh fuck he was grinding down, their cocks rubbing together. Dean was moaning like a whore but he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed; he simply wrapped a leg around Castiel’s waist, tugging him closer so their hips came into even tighter contact. That elicited a low growl from Cas, which _did things_ to Dean, twisted his stomach into low knots of pure need and he gasped, nipping at Cas’ mouth. “ _Fuck_ , Cas.” He mouthed along Castiel’s jaw, biting the spot just below his ear and tugging at the soft flesh. “Need you.” He rolled their hips together again, his hands gripping Castiel’s ass to pull him down at the same time as the roll so that their groins pressed together hard, that friction nearly unbearable. “Fuck me.” He whispered the words breathlessly into Cas’ ear, nipping his earlobe. 

That was apparently more than Cas could take. Dean felt Cas pull away and he whimpered but seconds later he found himself being slammed back against the pillows. Damn. Cas could sure get bossy when provoked. It was sexy as fuck. He stared up at Cas, eyes nearly popping out of his head as he watched the angel pour lube into his hand, giving his cock a stroke to slick it up. 

“Oh, fuck,” Dean breathed, watching Castiel stroke himself. It was a sight he’d never expected to see. He gripped the base of his dick to avoid getting carried away. “ _Fuck_.” 

Cas smiled, crawling on all fours until he was boxing Dean in again. “That’s the idea,” he murmured, kissing Dean. 

“Oh G-….” But he managed to cut himself off again. No taking the Lord’s name in vain during sex. His hands wandered their way over Cas’ back. At this point, the angel was just teasing. “Cas…..Cas, _please_.” He rocked up, searching for that friction, but Cas was on his knees, too far away, and Dean whined in frustration. “Cas, I _need_ you.” 

That heat flared in Castiel’s eyes once more, turning them into pinpricks of blue flame, and he kissed Dean again, hard and deep. Dean wanted to cry with relief as he felt Cas settling against him; still he felt a tiny flutter of nervousness. This was it. He was going to have sex with Cas. _Cas_. It was only his second foray into gay sex and this time, it would mean something. 

He felt the blunt head of Castiel’s cock nudging at his entrance and a shiver went through him. Cas looked down at him. “You’re sure?” There was a bit of anxiety in his eyes as well, nervousness at the action itself and about hurting Dean and whether Dean truly wanted this, and all of that was enough to settle Dean’s worries completely. 

He took Cas’ face in his hands, kissing him and pulling away with a smile. “I’m positive.” He watched the nervousness fade from Castiel’s face, only to be replaced by pure lust as he trailed a hand over the angel’s chest, teasing over his nipples and dragging a long, low moan from him. Cas looked down at Dean with heat in his eyes. Dean met that gaze, certain his own eyes mirrored the look. “Please, Cas…..need you.” 

There was no more hesitation after that. Dean felt that strange sensation of being breached, the slight sting of pain as he was stretched. He took a deep breath and Castiel immediately stopped. “Are you alright?” 

“M’fine, Cas.” He ran his hand through Cas’ brown hair, damp with sweat. “Don’t stop.” 

Cas nodded, pressing forward slowly but without hesitation until he bottomed out, balls against Dean’s ass. Dean found the stretch wasn’t as bad this time around….probably because he had been messing around on his own….but he’d guess a lot more of it had to do with who he was with this time around. Cas was staring down at him, eyeing him with such concern that Dean felt himself melt. He reached for Cas’ face, pulling him into a kiss, silencing the angel before he could even ask if Dean was okay. 

“I’m fine,” he answered the unasked question. “S’good.” He shifted a little, testing things, and a spark of pleasure rolled through him. “ _Oh_.” 

“Dean?” Concern and worry laced Cas’ voice. 

“Nothing. S’good. _Fuck_ , its good.” He wrapped his arms around Castiel’s neck, pulling him down to kiss him hungrily. He wanted more, but Cas still wasn’t moving. “Goddammit, Cas,” and he couldn’t have stopped the blasphemy that time if he’d tried, “move!” 

Cas blinked at him in surprise; Dean wanted to cry. Instead, he gave his hips a roll, and Cas gasped. “ _Oh!_ ” 

“Yeah.” That was more of the reaction he’d been looking for. Castiel’s face was flushed and shocked, amazed at the sensation that had just hit him. Dean wanted to see that look again. He repeated the action, rocking up against Cas, but this time, Cas grabbed his hips and pushed him down into the mattress, thrusting down into him hard. Dean cried out. “Fuck!” He couldn’t believe Cas had done that, taken that initiative. “Oh fuck, Cas.” 

The angel stroked Dean’s hip, ran his hand down the man’s leg and tugged it up, wrapping it around his waist, and yeah, that was something Dean could definitely get behind. He repeated the move with his other leg, pulling Cas tighter to him, and by the look on Castiel’s face, he definitely approved. His hands found Dean’s waist again and he tugged him closer, pulling them into tighter contact, and his hips snapped forward yet again. _Oh God_. Dean moaned, hands gripping the sheets. 

“That….Cas……just like that.” He was panting the words, already so out of breath. Cas looked so beautiful above him, and Dean realized that this was different than he had always pictured it. With Charlie, he had been on his knees, his back to her, so when he had pictured sex with Cas, it had always been the same way. Now, he found himself on his back, looking Cas in the eyes. It reached a whole new level of intimacy, and he found he didn’t mind. No, quite the contrary; he LOVED it. Loved seeing Cas’ flushed cheeks as he drove forward, thrusting deeper and deeper inside Dean, each thrust unravelling them both that much more; loved seeing the sweat beading on his forehead and that brown hair so much messier than usual; the concentration and lust, desire and LOVE in those gorgeous blue eyes. Fuck. He couldn’t handle this at all. 

Dean whimpered, reaching out for Castiel. “Cas….” He managed to catch a handful of brown hair and tug him into a kiss, mumbling against his mouth. “Castiel.” 

It was at that moment that Cas found that magic spot, that sweet spot that set a jolt of pleasure through Dean and he practically screamed, arms tightening about Castiel’s neck. “ _CAS!_ ” 

That only seemed to fuel Castiel’s passion; he kissed Dean deeper and snapped his hips forward, hitting the spot again, and again. Dean had dissolved into a mess, spewing forth a stream of practically undecipherable words and clinging to Cas, his mouth making its way along the angel’s shoulders and neck, kissing and nipping as he went. Then Cas’ fingers wrapped around his shaft, giving him one stroke, simultaneously hitting his prostate, and Dean was done for. He saw white behind his eyes as he came, crying out Cas’ name. He was clinging to Cas, barely registering anything except the pleasure and the blue eyes above him. “I love you,” he said, the words barely more than air. “ _I love you_.” 

That was all Castiel could handle. Dean’s name spilled from his lips as he came, rhythm growing erratic as he worked through his orgasm, finally collapsing atop Dean. They lay together, a tangle of arms and limbs as both struggled to catch their breath. It was astounding that Castiel was out of breath at all, seeing as how he didn’t really need to breathe. On some level, Dean was proud of tiring him out to such a state. 

After several minutes, Cas rolled off of Dean and pulled him closer. Dean thought he should probably object to being the little spoon (everyday-him would object) but he found that with Cas, he liked it, and he snuggled back against the angel. He also knew he should be bothered by the cum he could feel between his legs, but it really didn’t bother him. He could clean up later. In the shower. With Cas. The thought filled him with a fuzzy feeling. _God_ , he was turning into a chick. Oh well. If that meant more time wrapped up close to Castiel, he wasn’t going to object. But right now….now there was something he needed to say. 

"I was lying, you know." 

Cas' hand immediately froze in where it had been stroking idle patterns over the bare skin of Dean's side. ".....what." The word was hardly more than air, the terror barely suppressed, and Dean immediately realized how his words could be misconstrued. He quickly rolled over to face Cas, wrapping an arm tightly around him, holding him close. 

"Not what you think," he said, stroking Cas' hair. "I promise." 

The fear on Cas' face subsided slightly. "Okay." He took a shaky breath. "What, then." 

"About how the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid." Dean's fingers trailed down Cas' chest and he couldn't help averting his eyes, breaking their eye contact. His cheeks were flushing. But he had to look back up, meet Castiel's gaze. Cas deserved that. "...no one's ever looked at me the way you do." 

Castiel’s face immediately relaxed, dissolving into a look both relieved and sad. He stroked Dean’s cheek. “No one has ever appreciated you as you deserve, Dean Winchester.” Dean flushed and looked away, unable to face Cas. Cas, who always had a much higher opinion of him than he thought he deserved. “And you also need to have a higher opinion of yourself. You are the most amazing man I have ever known.” 

Dean’s face was aflame. “Shut up. Just….just shut up.” 

“I will not.” And then Cas’ hands were cupping his jawline, turning his face so that Dean was forced to look at him, and pulling him into a gentle kiss. “You are wonderful, and caring, and I love you.” 

And despite how much he might want to, Dean couldn’t argue with Cas. Not when he said ‘I love you’. Smiling, he kissed Cas again. “I love you, too.” 

Cas stroked Dean’s hair, his cheek, and the look of affection on his face as he regarded Dean was so overwhelming that Dean thought he could pass out. Instead, he snuggled close, burrowing up underneath Castiel’s chin and delighting in the angel’s surprised laughter. “Shaddup,” he mumbled. 

Cas’ lips brushed his forehead in a gentle kiss. “Sleep, Dean.” 

“You’ll stay with me?” Almost unconsciously, his arms tightened around the angel. 

“I’ll stay with you,” Cas promised. 

Dean smiled, hugging Cas tightly to him, and settled in, quickly falling asleep to the sensation of Cas’ graceful fingers tracing loving patterns up and down his back. 

 

**~*~**

 

Dean awoke the next morning with the immediate sense that something was off. Then he registered the weight of an arm draped across his waist. However, unlike the last time he woke like this, there was no shock of bright red hair to greet him. Instead, he found a mess of chestnut brown bedhead tucked up underneath his chin. He smiled at the sight of that constantly messy hair that he loved so much, and gave Cas a gentle kiss on the forehead. 

Cas stirred at the touch, letting out a quiet “mmph”. His eyes fluttered open, those baby blues blinking sleepily up at Dean, and God, if Dean had thought Cas couldn’t get any more adorable, he had just been proved wrong. He couldn’t help it; he leaned in and kissed the tip of Cas’ nose. Cas tried to follow the action with his eyes, only succeeding in going slightly cross-eyed, and oh God, if they continued at this rate, Dean would die from an overload of cute by breakfast. “Good morning, sleepyhead.” 

“Good morning.” Cas’ voice was even more gravelly in the morning, and fuck all, that was hot. 

Dean smiled, stroking Cas’ soft brown hair. “Should get up….get showered.” He winced at the feeling of dried cum between his legs. Cas whined at the suggestion; Dean chuckled. “Come on,” he wheedled. “I’ll give you a handjob in the shower.” 

Cas' eyes flew open; he regarded Dean with interest. “Very well,” he said. Dean had to laugh. 

“C’mon, pervert. Let’s go.” 

 

**~*~**

 

When they were finally showered and dressed (the shower had taken some time, and included more kissing than actual cleaning), they headed to the kitchen and found Sam already waiting. He raised both eyebrows at them. 

“So I assume you worked things out.” 

“Yup.” Dean went to the fridge, pulling out the orange juice. 

“Good.” Sam was smiling, but then he gave what Dean had long ago dubbed Bitchface #21. “Next time, though, could you be a little more quiet?” 

Cas had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I shut the door.” 

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” 

“Deal with it, Sammy. Cas is a screamer.” Dean gave Cas a smirk as he sat down at the table, ignoring the indignant glower Cas sent his way. 

“Oh yeah?” Sam said, a brow arched. “Because most of the screaming I heard came from _you_.” 

Dean choked on his orange juice; Cas looked at him triumphantly. Sam just bit back a laugh at both of their reactions and left the room. Dean glared at the expression on Cas’ face. “I hate you.” 

“Oh, really? Because I seem to recollect someone saying he loves me.” 

Dean grinned, shaking his head. “Smartass,” he said affectionately. He shoved a plate towards Cas. “Now shut up and eat some bacon.” 

“Dean, you know I don’t need to eat.” 

“Need has nothing to do with it. Everyone loves bacon. Now shut up and eat it.” 

Cas shook his head with a small smile, but he listened, picking up a piece, and the two passed breakfast with a friendly banter they had not shared in a long time. 

 

**~*~**

 

“ _Man_ , I’m tired.” 

“Dean, you barely did a thing today.” 

It was true. It had been a quiet day at the bunker. No cases had yet come up, so the three had spent the day in frivolous pursuits. Sam had spent most of the day reading. Dean had convinced Cas to let him teach him how to shoot, and they had spent a great deal of time at the range. At one point, the two had attempted to bake cookies. God knows what had given them THAT idea, and it hadn’t turned out very well. Sam had come into the kitchen to find it and them covered head to toe in flour, batter, and other assorted ingredients, and the cookies themselves were barely edible (Sam secretly guessed that the two had used a wrong ingredient). But they’d had fun, and that was all that mattered. 

Dean grinned. “Shut up. We had a busy night.” 

Cas flushed at the memory, but it was a happy sort of blush. It only made Dean’s smile grow. He walked over, tracing a fingertip down Castiel’s cheek. 

“I like this,” he murmured. “A blush looks good on you.” 

“Dean,” Cas quietly protested, “you’re going to make it worse.” 

Dean laughed. “Okay, okay.” He slid out of his jeans. “C’mon, Cas. Bedtime.” He grabbed a fresh t-shirt out of his drawers and threw it to Cas, who caught it, looking at Dean with a question in his eyes. “Dude, I know you don’t usually sleep, but you’re still gonna get in bed with me, and you’re not doing that while wearing your suit.” 

That made Cas smile and he complied, changing into the t-shirt and slipping out of his pants so he was down to the shirt and his boxers. Dean chuckled. “What,” Cas asked, tugging the hem of the shirt nervously. 

Dean shook his head. “Nothing. S’just strange seeing you in casual clothes, you know?” He moved in, cupping Cas’ face as he kissed him. “I like it.” 

Cas smiled. “Good.” 

The two crawled into bed and Dean allowed Cas to pull him close. Cas made a noise of contentment at the feeling, then Dean felt Cas' body shift in what felt like surprise. “You kept that?” 

Dean glanced over to see to what Cas was referring. It was the feather, still sitting on the nightstand. “Of course I did.” He reached out to grab it, holding it gently. Even though Cas was his now, the feather was still so precious to him. “Why is it so important to you? Why did you want it back?” The memory still hurt. 

Cas’ face sort of crumpled and he was silent, as if he didn’t know what to say. It was several moments before he finally spoke up. 

“Angels' wings are a very private part of them,” he began at last, sounding as though he were choosing his words very carefully. "This is why we generally only show our wings to those we love. It seems my soul…” He broke off, clearly having difficulty wording this part. “It seems my soul could sense I am meant to be with you, and wanted you to have a piece of me, to share myself with you in some small way. So I lost a feather.” 

Dean was listening, rapt, watching Cas with wide eyes. “Cas…” he breathed, but Cas pressed on. 

"When I thought you were with Charlie, and I saw you had my feather...." he trailed off. "...it hurt. It was as if our bond was becoming even stronger but I was the only one who knew or cared." 

Dean felt his heart aching at the knowledge of the pain Cas had gone through. He took the angel's face in his hands. "I care." Cas was looking at him, eyes full of regret over how this experience had gone down, pain for what had happened, love for Dean. Dean pulled him close and kissed him. 

“I love you,” he said softly. He felt Cas shift and looked up at him to see what the angel was doing. Cas was looking at him with wonder, as if Dean were the most amazing thing he had ever seen. Dean shifted awkwardly beneath that gaze. “What,” he asked, suddenly nervous. 

Cas was staring at him, eyes roving over every inch of Dean’s face as though he would memorize it. “You really do love me,” he said softly. 

Dean felt relief wash over him at that, knowing that was all Cas was thinking. He nodded, reaching out to stroke Castiel’s cheek. He still couldn’t believe this was happening, that he was allowed to touch Cas like this. “I _do_ love you,” he said again. “I love you so much.” 

At that, he saw something strange, even in the darkness of the room. He would swear he saw tears in Castiel’s eyes. But Cas didn’t cry. Cas NEVER cried. “Cas?” He felt another wave of panic overcome him. “Cas, what’s wrong?” 

Cas simply lay back, tugging Dean into his arms again and shaking his head. “Nothing,” he answered. “I just never would have thought that life could be so….perfect.” 

Dean smiled. “I know exactly what you mean.” He twirled the feather between his fingers. All this time, he never would have imagined he would ever have the real thing, the actual angel. And now…. 

Dean glanced up at Castiel. Those blue eyes, the eyes that had started it all, were smiling down at him. He reached up and trailed the feather lightly down Cas’ cheek. The angel chuckled, catching his hand, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “Sleep.” 

Smile on his face, Dean settled in with his head snuggled up under Cas’ chin. He still had the feather in hand, the angel’s hand now covering his own. 

Had to keep the precious things together, after all. 

**~fin~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta bump my new Destiel fic, 'Every Color in the World'. It can be found here:  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/2187549/chapters/4789545


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